Page 94 of Fatality

I close my eyes, expecting to fall asleep immediately.

Instead, an hour passes with me grunting, turning, and growling in frustration, unable to fucking sleep.

Every time I close my eyes, all I see are hers—Those fucking eyes, that hatred wrapping around me like a fur coat.

For an entire hour, I lie there restless, unable to shut my mind off or my dick.

For fuck's sake.

I rub my face with both hands before sitting up.

If I can't sleep, I might as well check on the merchandise from here.

I pull out my comm, ignoring the hundreds of texts from Lira.

Lira: “Where are you?”

Lira: “Please, I want to feel your cock.”

Lira: “I need you!”

Lira: “When are you coming to see me?”

And a hundred other whining messages just like that.

I roll my eyes and swipe upward, making the screens float out in front of me.

I start reviewing everything.

One of the car shipments is late, and there are credits missing from a transaction involving the sale of drugs used for body modifications, like instant adrenaline boosters for people who can't afford permanent surgery like I did, along with other substances, including hard drugs.

My gang operates mainly through street races.

It's the most profitable part of our business.

But on the side, we also sell drugs, ship and buy mechanical parts for our cars, and supply them to other racers.

Always the best quality.

That's one of the reasons Crimson Velocity is ranked second in Kairo-9.

We're brutes, chaotic by nature and we love creating chaos. But beneath all of that, we're organized and relentless.

Varek and Ren handle most of the internal business, while Neo and I focus more on the races.

Even if I still keep a hand in everything, the gang is mine.

I call Varek through hologram video. He answers instantly. His dark-gold eyes and burnt-copper hair, tied low with molten-orange streaks running through it, look even more striking in hologram form.

“Can't sleep?” he asks.

“Yeah, whatever.” I wave a dismissive hand. “I'm going to send you what I found, and I need you to tell me which fucking idiot stole our car merchandise and who skimmed credits from the drug sales.”

I send him the report. He receives it immediately and stays silent for a moment.

“Okay, I see where this is going.” He pauses. “The merchandise was stolen. Someone sabotaged the delivery to screw us over for the races. The container is marked as delivered.”

“Well, no shit,” I say dryly. “Find out who. And I want Ren to go there with a few trusted members and have a talk with them.”